our last
evening on Earth. At least, I sincerely hope so."

They went on. In time they saw what there was to see. It was a city,
vast and sprawling, but still just another city Man had created. The
buildings were huge, but constructed as all buildings had to be, out of
stone and steel, concrete and plastic. Women were beautiful, tastefully
gowned and coiffured, but it was easy to see that they were merely
women. Shops were elaborate and fanciful, but there was a limit to what
they displayed, an end to the free play of fancy.

By the time they realized they were tired, they were close to the hotel.
There wasn't any use in seeking transportation, since they'd get where
they were going almost as fast either way. They had kept to the main
thoroughfares since there was more to see. But Marcus had quickly
accustomed himself to the pattern of streets and as they neared their
destination he saw a short cut which they took.

It was getting late and the street was dark. He began to wonder whether
they should have come this way. He decided they shouldn't have. A faint
red flash from the doorway indicated that his tardy decision was sound
but useless. His knees tingled where the red flash struck him and in the
middle of a stride he felt he didn't have any feet. He fell forward,
trying to shield Wilbur. Wilbur was falling, too, and they collided on
the downward arc.

[Illustration]

Hands seized him, lifting him up. He was in no condition to struggle.
Besides it wasn't safe. A tingler wasn't a lethal weapon, but it could
have unpleasant effects if used carelessly or hastily. He didn't think
they were in any real danger and it was best not to provoke their
captors.

* * * * *

By the time he had recovered sufficiently to be aware of what was going
on, he found he had been carried to a space between two buildings,
hidden from the street by a masonry projection. Wilbur was sitting
beside him and a dim light played on them.

"Don't move," said a voice that made an effort to be rough and hard, but
failed by an octave. Now that Marcus thought of it the hands that had
lifted him were small and soft. Their captors were women. The
disconnected impressions of the city seemed to fall into a pattern. He
was not greatly surprised at what was happening.

[Illustration]

The light moved closer and Marcus could make out the figure of the woman
who held it. Behind her were others--all women. But even delic